On Thursday, the Jimmy Buffett jukebox musical Escape to Margaritaville made its splashy debut at the Marquis Theatre. “It’s an amazing thing when you think of all the work that has gone into this in the last five years,” Buffett told Vogue before curtain call. “It’s a collaboration that I’ve just totally admired: working with such talented people that work so hard for me.” The man of the hour appeared to be his usual easy, breezy self when he walked the red carpet—which was actually colored in shades of turquoise blue—and appropriately dressed in a Hawaiian shirt to match. Buffett’s signature “Parrothead” style was at its peak, and despite the near-freezing temperatures in New York, many showgoers turned up in their best tropical-inspired looks. There were even a few flip-flops in the mix, but they didn’t feel out of place once inside the theater, which was lined with beach chairs and tiki bars serving various frozen rum- and tequila-spiked concoctions, many topped with a mini umbrella.

For what is essentially the Broadway version of a booze cruise, Escape to Margaritaville tells the tale of hunky island bar singer Tully Mars (played by Paul Alexander Nolan). He idly spends most of his time at a rundown resort on an unnamed Caribbean island, strumming on his six-string and breaking the hearts of tourists who fall for him. Tully can’t keep the names of his conquests straight, but his approach to romance remains the same: “The best part about living on a vacation island is the relationships only last a week,” he says. That is until the brainy (and beautiful) environmental scientist Rachel (Alison Luff), comes into town.

The show kicks off with a rendition of “License to Chill,” as a swarm of island guys and gals shimmy out in sarongs and swimsuits to match the palm frond–covered set (marvelously designed by Walt Spangler). Nearly every dance number is served with a round of drinks, and come intermission, the spirits continue to flow: Waiters (in Hawaiian shirts, no less!) weaved in and out of the aisles while carrying floating trays of margaritas with salt. A dizzying 27 Jimmy Buffett hits later (plus a few new tunes, too), and a surprise beach ball–drop signaled the grand finale, just as Mr. Buffett himself strolled out to lead one last sing-along to the title song. He kicked off his shoes mid-chorus and inspired the cast to do the same.

Following the show, guests migrated to Pier Sixty for more music, mixed drinks, and, yes, cheeseburgers, in what felt like a little taste of paradise. The ballroom was strung with punchy paper lanterns and the bars were covered in the same tiki-style palm fronds as seen in the show. Guests delighted in the decadent spread of Jamaican jerk chicken, Caribbean mahi-mahi, and triple sec–spiked rainbow sherbet for dessert. As the cast posed for photos, Buffett could be seen signing autographs. “He doesn’t come with a big ego,” said Nolan, who recalled jetting to the Florida Keys to sing in beach bars alongside Buffett in preparation for the role. “He’s a very grounded, down-to-earth guy. He loves his life, and he loves his music, and he also loves artists—he lets you into his world and we all just have fun.” When in Margaritaville.